White walls, white ceiling, white floor
The slate has been whitewashed clean
No escape no windows no door
What does all of this mean
Vivid colors echo from my past
Pain, pleasure, and blinding confusion
Somehow I knew they would never last
Perhaps it was all just some elaborate illusion
Bustling cafes, exotic lands, and oceans so blue
Now I sit and stare at suffocating walls of alabaster
Skies dark like pitch and storms that would endlessly brew
Where have you lead me, fate, my master
A colorful bird left flightless in a colorless world
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